Will You Marry Mii?
by ChelsieSouloftheAbbey
Summary: Plot bunny from Chelsie-Carson/Hogwarts Duo that's evolved into some weird AU/canon mix. Chelsie engagement, video games, early retirement, and more. Frivolous, fluffy fun for our duo.
1. Chapter 1

It's warm for an April afternoon. Charles cracks open the living room windows of his cottage, knowing the breeze will bring in the soft scent of blooming lilac from the hedge across the road. He pulls the curtains around the small hooks, securing them, and peers through the window with a modicum of hope to see if anyone is coming down the lane.

There's no one in sight, of course. He knows it'll be at least forty minutes before Elsie even sets foot on the path from Downton Abbey - knows this because he'd glanced at his watch immediately prior to opening the windows - and another fifteen before she arrives at the cottage. In fact, he thinks Tom will probably offer her a lift, but Charles is sure she'll refuse because she never passed up the chance for a walk on a gorgeous day. He can't disagree with the sentiment, only he wishes time would pass a bit faster today.

The phone on the kitchen counter buzzes and he rushes to it in anticipation, but it's just the same unrecognizable number again, probably offering him yet another cruise around Scandinavia.

_No, thank you. _

With a bemused smile, Charles turns back to the object in the center of his small coffee table, the sight of which instantly turns the corners of his mouth downward. His gaze follows the cables running out the back and connected to the television, and as a sigh escapes his mouth he makes his way over to it all and checks all the connections again, turns everything on, and winces at the music emanating from the speakers even as he snaps up the remote from the table and lowers the volume.

"'Borrow the Wii,' he said," Charles mutters, Tom's voice echoing in his mind. "'It'll be fun,' he said. Right."

With an extra dark glance thrown at the Wii, Charles heads back into the kitchen. He pauses in front of the calendar hanging on the side of the refrigerator and gingerly lifts the page, peeking at May and tracing his finger over the small heart Elsie had drawn over the box for the sixteenth. The smile returns in full force, his heart swelling as his eyelids flutter shut, and he allows himself a few moments to dip back into a familiar daydream, wondering about her dress, imagining what will likely be her sure, steady steps as she comes down the aisle (escorted by none other than the Earl of Grantham), and finding himself unable to imagine how it will feel to slip the simple gold band over her finger.

A quick check verifies that the kettle is filled and on the hob, ready to go, and that there are ample biscuits in the tin. Rubbing his hands, Charles is at a bit of a loss; another check of his watch verifies that he is, after all, still some thirty-eight minutes away from their …

_Date. __It's a date,_ he tells himself. After years of wishing to simply _have_ a date with Downton's resident housekeeper, he still struggles with the word, despite his current engagement to be married to the woman. But he and Elsie have managed two dates a week with her half-days scheduled on Mondays and Thursdays, plus a bit of extra time on Sundays. They've spent afternoons together in the village, taken walks in the park, and they even had an afternoon tucked together on his sofa last month as the rain came down in buckets all around the cottage. They'd solidified their wedding plans that afternoon, sorting the food for the wedding breakfast and the flowers for the men's boutonnières.

With another sigh, he makes his way back to the Wii, figuring he'd best work on how to use the thing before she arrives.

He boots it up and sits on the sofa, controller in hand. Tom had given him very brief instructions, but in the end Charles remembers little other than the fact that he needs to create the character - the 'Mii,' Tom had called it (with an exhuberant Miss Sybbie bouncing on the balls of her feet and nodding all the while). Charles smiles, remembering, then takes a deep breath and clicks the correct spot.

Tom hadn't been kidding, Charles sees immediately. The process involves few words and is somewhat user-friendly, even for someone with as little technology expertise as he possesses. He takes his time with each option, seeing what each will look like before making his decisions: skin color, facial shape, hairstyle, eyebrows, and nose (those last two make him chuckle when he selects the largest ones he can find and still is unsatisfied). He's methodical in the process and comfortable, he supposes, with his choices. He finishes by entering his name, thinking briefly of simply putting "Carson" because it is, after all, Miss Sybbie's gaming system, but in the end he adds "Charles." Once it's saved, he peeks in at the other players' Miis, and sees Elsie's right away, except-

"Knock, knock! Anybody home?" Elsie's voice rings out clearly as she comes in the door, and Charles places the controller back on the table and jumps up to greet her, checking his watch again, unable to believe how much time he's just spent on a cartoon version of himself.

"There you are," he says softly, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek.

Elsie rises up on her tiptoes and kisses him firmly on the lips. "One month," she reminds him. "I get more than just a friendly kiss on the cheek if we're getting married in just over one month, surely."

Charles grabs her around the waist and pulls her close, bending down towards her but stopping short of their lips touching. "I suppose," he murmurs, and he smiles as her eyes flutter closed. He gently threads his fingertips into her hair, which she's got loosely styled today, and closes the gap between them, kissing her very slowly and very sweetly until they're both breathless.

"Well," she manages when he pulls away. "That's certainly an improvement."

"Just you wait, Mrs. Hughes. I'm not a complete stranger to romance."

"Apparently not." Her cheeks flush, and she looks away as she unties her scarf and hangs it and her light coat on the hook. "I can't wait to see what _that_ means."

Charles is already heading to put on their tea, but he stops and turns. "But … we are still waiting, correct? You've not changed your mind on that score?"

His words are almost apprehensive, and Elsie puts him at ease immediately. "No, I haven't. I rather like the idea of waiting until we … well, for all of _that,_" she says pointedly. "It's quite traditional … quite _us,_ really."

"Agreed."

They make small talk as he prepares the tea and sets out the biscuits, and Elsie notices the television is already on, the Mii screen up. "Got a character then, have you?"

"Yes." Charles rejoins her and pours some tea, nodding at the screen. "I was just about to fix the name for yours when you arrived."

Elsie glances up and sees it. "_Mrs. Hughes_," she reads. "What's the matter with it?"

He points to the screen, astonished. "There's no space between the 'Mrs.' and the 'Hughes'," he explains, as if it should be perfectly obvious. "After the period, I mean."

"Well, no," she agrees, keeping herself from rolling her eyes. "It wouldn't fit."

"Sorry?"

"The name limit is ten characters, or something like that," she explains, looking back at the screen and counting quickly. "Yes, ten. Spaces included. Miss Sybbie chose to eliminate the space instead of the period, I suppose. Does it really matter?"

Charles scowls, and her eye roll breaks through, which perturbs him a bit more. "Of course it matters." He takes up the controller and deletes her name, changing it instead to 'Elsie.'

"Really? You'll put my actual first name up on Miss Sybbie's game because it's more proper than a missing space? Not that _I _mind, but I'm shocked _you_ don't."

"I'll change it back when we're finished, of course." He clicks back to the main screen. "Besides, I put _my _first name in, so now we'll match." He adds in a soft grumble, "I couldn't very well just put _Carson …_"

Elsie reaches for a biscuit to keep herself from replying, watching with bemusement as he goes back to his own Mii and edits the face a bit to make it appear thinner.

"It's smiling," she teases. "Is that right?"

He chuckles, then goes back and adds a furrowed brow and a scowl to his character. "There."

"And its eyes are blue."

"Well, I didn't like the brown. That was too dark, and the green was so very, well, _green_." He blushes a bit at the tips of his ears; she notices, and her eyes enquire silently. "So I left them blue because they match yours," he murmurs.

"Well," she replies tenderly, "I suppose you aren't a stranger to romance after all." Elsie leans over and pecks him on the cheek, then picks up her own controller. "Alright, then, pick a game. This one's got swordplay, wakeboarding, frisbee, archery … What would you like?"

"Wait a moment. It said to put the on the wrist strap and tighten it."

Elsie sees him trying to adjust the strap in order to fit his hand through it, but she puts her hand over his. "Wait to see what we're playing first before you put it on."

He looks back at the screen, scanning the grid of options. "I'll be rubbish at them all," he concludes. "Do _you_ have a favorite?"

Elsie nibbles her lip, contemplating. "Well …"

"Just pick one," he tells her. "Honestly, I don't mind."

"Alright, then." She takes the controller and clicks the wakeboarding image. "You do know what wakeboarding is, don't you?"

"I'll figure it out, I'm sure," he says.

They follow the prompts to calibrate the controllers, and then Elsie selects the correct Miis from the board.

"Now, we'll do a 'beginner' level. You watch me and see if you can figure it out."

Charles looks on, his mouth slightly open in astonishment as his fiancée - his relatively reserved, proper, well-respected housekeeper - steers her Mii over the waves, shouting gleefully at the television as she does so. He tries to observe and learn from how she holds the controller, how she leans and twists and everything else, but after about thirty seconds, all he can manage to pay attention to is the joy on her face as she easily bests the round … or game, or match, or whatever it's called. He doesn't much care anyhow.

"That was spectacular!" he praises her.

"You didn't even watch half of it!" Elsie replies with a laugh, and she reaches over and caresses his cheek.

Charles clasps her hand in his and kisses the back of it. "Perhaps not, but we both know I'll be a disaster at this, and I don't mind one jot. It makes _you _so happy to play it that I'll use a Wii every day if you'd like. Perhaps we should get one of our own?"

Elsie laughs and sits on the sofa. "Why don't we see how you like actually playing the thing first, hm?"

Charles takes his turn. He doesn't do quite as abysmally as he'd anticipated, something which secretly makes Elsie quite happy, indeed. She wins, but not by as much as she'd expected, and they play the wakeboarding twice more and then try their hand at archery before turning the system off for the day and picking up the dirty dishes.

"We have it on loan for several weeks," Charles says.

Elsie sighs. "I know. I do hope they make it back for the wedding, but who knows how long that business in Boston will take? And I'm sure they'll want to spend time with his cousins, too."

As they're washing up, Charles asks about Elsie's morning.

"Nothing terribly exciting happened today, thankfully. Robert and Cora have more restorers coming in next week to work on that leak in the tower, so we've roped that section of the castle off from the guests. So in terms of general housekeeping, the staff have been rather at loose ends. I sent them to do some extra cleaning in the family's quarters - wood polishing and the like - because there wasn't much to do today with no tours of the main areas this past weekend."

"The rain is such a problem in the springtime."

Elsie nods. "You should come up and observe the tower work, you know."

Charles frowns a bit. "I'm not sure. I've had a hard enough time with this forced early retirement, as you know." He holds out his hand, which is trembling gently. "Somehow, it just seems easier being away from the place."

"Well, the workers that were there yesterday were talking to Robert about all sorts of details regarding the architecture of the place, discussing how they wish to use the correct materials in the repair in order to remain authentic. Half of it was over my head, but you'd be in your element. You may even be able to answer some of the questions they have about the history of when it was built. I think they left a list."

"Hm. Perhaps," he allows.

Dishes done, Charles escorts Elsie to the door. He takes her scarf from the hook and tenderly wraps it around her neck, securing it in a loose knot. But as he slides her coat over her arms, Elsie leans back and into his chest, sighing as he wraps his arms around her from behind and places a sweet kiss to her neck that makes her heart beat a bit faster.

"One month," she murmurs.

"Thirty-four days," he clarifies. "Dinner tomorrow?"

Elsie turns in his arms and rests her hands on his chest. "How about coming up to the Abbey for luncheon tomorrow? Robert will be around, and the weather should be lovely for a walk. We can maybe eat in the courtyard, if that suits."

Charles nods. "I suppose, if you think it's a good idea. I don't want to be in Mr. Barrow's way."

"You won't be."

She steals one more kiss, and it convinces him.

"Alright, then."

He grabs his coat and house key.

"You don't need to walk me back, Charles."

"It's getting darker," he says, locking the door, and Elsie glances up at the sky, still blue despite the setting sun.

"It isn't, really, but if you insist, I'm happy for the company."

She takes his hand as they head up the lane. "Once we're married and I've moved in here, you can't possibly walk me to work every day, even though it'll be dark when I leave the cottage in the winter."

"We'll get a car," he tells her, and she laughs.

"We will not! Everywhere we ever go, including the train station, is within a mile from the cottage!"

He stops, pulls her close, and drops a kiss to her forehead. "Then I shall, indeed, walk you to work every day."

"We'll see."

They go a little way in silence, companionably, and Elsie feels Charles's thumb brushing rhythmically over the back of her knuckles.

"Have you started packing?" he asks eventually.

But Elsie shushes him with a finger to his lips as a rabbit darts across the road a few feet ahead of them. "Ohh, she's got a wee one in her mouth," she coos softly.

Charles looks at her, his eyes tender. "You really are like a child, sometimes. Not in a bad way, mind you."

"I know what you mean, Charles. And I suppose that's a good thing; I'll keep you young."

He takes her hand again as they continue on their way.

"I'm pleased to inform you that, since you've been asking me the same question every other day for three weeks now, I have a different answer today."

"Do you now?" He's surprised, which pleases her.

"Yes. I've packed some of the books in my office and some of my off-season clothing. Not that there's much to take care of, really. I'm not bringing any furniture, of course, and the small sitting area up there doesn't hold much. Most of my personal belongings are in my office, I suppose. Living in at Downton certainly has kept my material needs down to a minimum. And you purchased linens and such when you retired and moved in, so we won't need any of that."

She doesn't tell him about the quilt she's been working on, the one she hopes to finish for their bed by the time the wedding arrives. Just thinking of it, and the bed it'll reside upon, makes her sigh.

"Elsie?"

She glances up at him from underneath her eyelashes. "Oh, don't mind me. It's nothing."

"I doubt that very much." Charles smirks. "You're a woman of mystery if ever there was one."

"That I am, Charlie. That I am."

* * *

**TBC? This started out as a silly plot idea from Hogwarts Duo (who graciously provided me a tutorial of the Wii, which I know as much about as Charlie here), but I'm wondering if I should keep it going. Drop me a review if you liked it and let me know what you think. Thanks for checking it out! xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**_16 May, Downton_**

Elsie wakes slowly the morning of her wedding. The sun is beginning to creep in through the curtains, the light catching her wrist as she stretches and then sinks back into the mattress and rolls onto her side.

She peeks through the window at the sunrise, smiling when she realizes that she actually managed a wonderful night's sleep. If you'd asked her a week prior, in the midst of last-minute changes and additions to the wedding breakfast menu and the order of service, Elsie would have said she'd sleep poorly - or perhaps not at all - on the eve of the big day. But she and Charlie took a long walk hand-in-hand yesterday morning in the woods surrounding the Abbey, and they discussed anything and everything _but _the wedding: color choices for redoing the guest room at the cottage, the sights they'd like to see in Scarborough, how many boxes Elsie ended up packing (twenty-three, parlour and bedroom inclusive, a number that astounded her but just made Charles laugh), and a back-and-forth list of dishes that each of them could somewhat successfully cook or bake.

But now that the day has arrived, now that the housekeeper is fully awake and the reality of what this day will bring has sunk in once again … well. Heart fluttering, she glances at the clock.

_7:02_

It's a full hour after she normally arrives downstairs to go over her lists for the day, and her eyes widen and blink hard. She's not slept this late in years.

The knock on the door is unexpected.

"Come in."

The arrival of the cook and the other two members of the female staff makes Elsie smile.

"We're here to dress the bride," Beryl tells her.

"Now _those _are words I never thought I'd hear," she replies with a chuckle.

"Oh, come on now," Anna adds, reaching the side of the bed just as Elsie sits up against the headboard. "Phyllis is all set to do your hair," she continues, pointing to the bundle of things in the maid's hands, "and there's no way you'll get into that dress without a bit of help with the buttons. There must be fifty of them!"

"There are a lot," Elsie concedes, "and I feel like a fool now for buying it."

"Don't," Beryl tells her with a smirk. "I'm sure Mr. Carson will rather enjoy undoing them, after all. Bit of a tease, really!" She laughs, then adds, "For both of you, maybe."

Elsie's cheeks redden. "And what do you know about it all, Beryl?"

"You'd be surprised, Mrs. Hughes," she replies mysteriously. "Now, we're preparing a rather heartier staff breakfast today-"

"You mean you've not already eaten?" Elsie interrupts.

"Without the bride? Heavens, no. Thomas insisted. Now, if you can nip down for seven thirty for that, we'll have you back up here and ready by ten with no problems whatsoever."

The housekeeper swings her feet onto the floor, then reaches her hands out to her friends - all of whom rush to her side, clasp her hands, and pull her in for a hug.

"It'll be a new life," Elsie murmurs.

"Oh," Beryl replies quietly, "it will. But I think you can make a go of it."

* * *

Charles wakes at precisely five forty-five - one full hour and a quarter before Robert knocks on the cottage door. By that point, Charles is bathed, clean shaven, dressed, and sitting down to tea and some toast.

Robert admonishes him for already being in his tuxedo, but Charles explains his reasoning: he is simply too excited (and too worried about time) to think about having to dress himself twice in the span of four hours. Robert can understand that for he, too, had been a very nervous groom once upon a time. The men attach boutonnières to one another's lapels and spend about an hour talking about this and that. Charles knows that Cora must have sent her husband to keep his friend occupied, and the effort is appreciated.

He manages to remain composed until the exact moment when Elsie arrives at the church, but when he hears the crunch of an automobile's wheels as they roll over the gravel that lines the church's drive, Charles feels his heart give a few extra thumps. The solo violinist Elsie had chosen begins to play, and Charles takes several deep breaths to calm down.

His breath stills, though, when Elsie arrives by his side. She's _radiant_ \- there is simply no other word for it - and Charles knows himself to be the luckiest man in all of Downton.

The Reverend recites the words for the vows, and Charles hears and ponders each and every one as Elsie repeats them, her eyes only on her husband-to-be. When he takes her hand in his, Charles gives it a tender squeeze; that, coupled with a minute upturn of his lip, makes his bride smile brightly. Confidently, surely, Charles repeats his own vows, his gaze only wavering from its focus on Elsie's bright blue eyes when he slips the simple gold band over her finger.

* * *

"_With my body, I thee worship …"_

The words ring in her ears over and over and over again. Elsie isn't sure how she got through most of the service, but by the time the ring has been slid over her finger and she has a vague notion of being handed her bouquet once again, she's ready to head back down the aisle and out to the church's front steps with Charles.

_Her __**husband.**_

Before she knows it he's tugging on her arm, encouraging her to turn to him, and then his lips are on hers. She can't help the little hum that escapes her mouth; she knows he's heard it and probably _felt _it, and she smiles against his mouth when he returns the hum in kind before they break apart. They'd decided weeks ago to keep the kisses at the church rather chaste for the sake of propriety. It's a good thing, because in her heightened emotional state, the mere touch of his lips is making her body thrum. And while a woman holding the position of Head of Staff at Downton a hundred years ago would surely not have had any experience with such things, Elsie _has. _It may _feel _like a hundred years ago when she and Joe had been dating, but Elsie still remembers that one night by the sea. She remembers not caring much for the act itself, truth be told - she certainly remembers not enjoying herself as much as Joe apparently had. But she also remembers the way her heart would flutter at the thought of being kissed, at being touched so intimately.

And now with Charles, the fluttering she feels when _he _kisses her is a forceful, sometimes unpredictable, beating against her chest ...

"_With my body, I thee worship …"_

Elsie doesn't pretend to be a woman of the world, but she certainly doesn't live in a sack. Charlie's touch, the heat from his fingertips when it seeps through her sleeve, the warmth of his breath when he whispers in her ear-

"Elsie," the whisper comes, as if pulled directly from her psyche, "is everything alright?"

"Just fine," she replies, and he notes the heightened flush of her cheeks, and he wonders. "Don't mind me, Charlie. I'm just daydreaming. I can't believe we've finally done it."

"Well, I'll admit that it may have taken me a while to realize this is where we always were meant to end up," Charles admits quietly. "But it seems to have worked out all right."

She pats his hand. "It took us _both_ a while, dear," she says in a whisper. "And this is definitely all right. Now come on. We've a breakfast to get to."

"I almost wish we'd done the receiving line here and not waited for the schoolhouse," Charles says wistfully.

"And why is that?"

He turns to her and his gaze softens; she can feel the love behind it as his eyes travel over her looser hairstyle, the blush in her eyes, the curve of her lip, and the delicate heart-shaped locket he'd given her which now graces her chest just below the neck. He leans in and puts his lips just beside her ear, taking a moment to brush the curve of the lobe with a kiss before whispering, "Because the way you look in the sunlight - the way it's bouncing off of your hair, lighting up your face … It's beautiful, and I'm not ready to give it up."

"Oh, Charlie," she murmurs, and she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him even as the goose flesh travels down the back of her neck. "I do love you. And just think - tomorrow, and for the next few tomorrows after that, we won't be in any rush at all."

He leans down and touches his forehead to hers. "I can't wait," he whispers. "And I love you, too."

* * *

Their honeymoon is nothing short of perfection. Having chosen to forego opening any gifts until they returned (including the very suspicious one that the Bransons had arrived with - a rather large box that a giggly Sybbie setting it on the gift table), they manage to get an earlier train than planned, thus beginning their time away as fast as possible.

No one blames them. They've waited decades for this day, after all.

The weather in Scarborough is sunny and warm, with gentle breezes in the afternoon during which they walk along the shore, do a bit of shopping and sightseeing, and investigate every restaurant and cafe they can find. Nights, of course, aren't spent in the company of anyone but themselves. On their first night, the Carsons sit on the balcony outside of their rental cottage and watch the sunset, with Elsie tucked under her husband's arm and snuggled into his side. By the time the sun has completely set and the moon has risen, they've moved indoors; the next several hours are, understandably, filled with a great deal of passionate joy - something for which Elsie is immensely grateful, indeed.

She wakes early the first morning, unsure for a half-second where she is. But then the sound of her husband's steady breathing brings her around fully, and she rolls over and snuggles up against him - warm, secure, and blissfully happy as she drifts back to sleep.

Charles, waking for a brief moment when he feels her moving around behind him, rolls over, wraps his arms around her, and joins her in her dreams, his heart fuller than it's ever been.

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the amazing support for this little fic. I apologize for the delay in getting this out to you! One more chapter to go before we wrap this short one up. Shout out to the guests whom I was unable to thank via private message - I truly appreciate you all! xx**


	3. Epilogue

**I have nothing but immense apologies that this took so long to finish up. It's been in my mind forever, but I've just managed to get it to come out my fingertips and onto the keys. There's a tense change to reflect that it's the epilogue. Many, many thanks to all of you for your lovely support.**

**xxx, ****CSotA**

* * *

Charles and Elsie held hands the entire train ride home. Scarborough had been a dream, but Elsie needed to return to work in a few days and Charles had a meeting for the library board next week and needed some time to prepare for it.

When they got back to the cottage, a huge pile of gifts lay waiting to be opened. They walked past them all, left their suitcases by the kitchen counter, and fell into bed, exhausted.

Later that afternoon, it was Charles who woke first. He managed to slip out of bed without waking Elsie and got into the shower, then succeeded in unpacking both their suitcases and starting on the first load of post-holiday laundry before he heard Elsie's footsteps coming down the hall. He gave her long nightshirt an approving look. "I see we both decided getting dressed again would be pointless."

"Well," she said, glancing at the clock. "We have no plans to be anywhere, do we?"

"We do not," he replied, and he handed her a steaming mug of cocoa. "If you're as groggy as I feel after that long nap, you'll need this."

Elsie accepted the mug gratefully and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Bless you. Have you unpacked it all?"

"Mostly." He waved a hand in the direction of the living room. "Some of your things are in there. I wasn't sure where you'd want to put them."

She padded into the living room and examined the small pile on the couch, rifling through the items. "The travel things I never really use, so perhaps in the attic? The rest of it will go in the bathroom."

"I've made some space there," he said through the doorway. "Half the cabinet is now empty and waiting for you, and there's plenty of room in the bedroom closet.

He walked into the living room and drew her into his arms gently, careful not to spill her cocoa, and gave her a squeeze. "It'll be lovely having your things next to mine."

"Are you sure, Charlie? The disadvantage to our not moving somewhere new is that I feel like I'm a bit of a stranger who's crashing into your space."

Charles took the mug from her hand and deposited it on a table, then turned back to her and gave her a searing, deep kiss as he held her impossibly closer. When they pulled apart, he twirled a loose bit of her hair around his finger before trailing that same fingertip down the side of her neck and, eventually, tucking it inside her neckline, tugging suggestively at her nightshirt.

"I'd say, Mrs. Carson, that you're very much _not_ a stranger to me any longer. Not after the week we just spent away on honeymoon."

Elsie reached down, tugging at the waistband of his pajama pants. "Mr. Carson," she said, drawing out the _r_ sounds in the name, "I'm not entirely sure what you mean. Perhaps a refresher is in order? You know - given that we're both clearly very well rested from our journey." While she was speaking, she managed to undo the drawstring tie on the pants, and before he could answer, she slipped her hand inside and began to caress him.

"Bedroom," he gasped, but Elsie shook her head.

"I think this will do just fine," she answered, unceremoniously dumping her travel items onto the floor. She pushed gently on his chest until he plopped onto the large sofa and then she sat astride him, putting her hand back right where it had just been moments before.

Charles reached for the buttons on her nightshirt, undoing them from the bottom up and eventually pulling the fabric open when he was through.

"I was going to suggest opening our gifts," he whispered, leaning forward and kissing the swell of her breast as she continued to caress him. "But I like your idea better."

* * *

The next morning, they finally got around to opening their wedding gifts, and it felt like Christmas. They didn't need to set up house because Charles already had any household items they'd require, and so their friends and family chose far more personal gifts. There was an antique gramophone from Robert and Cora, complete with a selection of vinyl representing both Charles and Elsie's musical favorites; there was a quilted wall hanging from Phyllis Baxter, which Charles noted would have to go in the bedroom because it would be a lovely match for the quilt Elsie had made for the bed. They received an elegant bar set from the Bateses, a pair of leather-bound first editions from Mary and Edith (between them, they knew just what each of the Carsons liked best), and personalized stationery from Joseph Molesley. And Beryl and Daisy had sent a subscription for one of those ready-to-cook meal services, which made Elsie laugh; she promptly handed the paperwork for it over to her husband, putting him in charge as she pleaded "no time to cook" and "not retired yet" ... to which he agreed, albeit reluctantly.

They saved Tom and Sybbie Branson's gift for last, having had a strong suspicion all along as to what the box contained. Elsie's squeal of glee upon pulling out the Wii was matched by Charles's fear as he removed six game boxes from the attached bag. He noted the sport game was one of them, along with four things he'd never heard of in his life. But the sixth, while also something completely foreign to him, he found intriguing.

"My Sims Kingdom," he said, and he read a bit of the back. "This might be fun." He glanced up at Elsie, who was smiling at him fondly. "You create this kingdom and it has little people in it. They live there, and you've got to keep it all going."

"Yes," she said patiently, biting her lip and trying not to laugh. "Welcome to the twenty-first century, love."

He looked at the box again. "I need to be something called a _Wandolier_." He looked up again, concerned. "Do you think I can manage it?"

Elsie nodded, bemused, and said nothing. Instead, she cut open the box and pulled out the Wii, set it up on the coffee table, and connected the cables. She pulled out the controller, added the batteries, and handed it to her husband.

"Put the disc in and see what you think," she told him, and he sat on the couch and peeled the wrapping off the game. "I'm going to take a shower before popping the last load of laundry in. When I come back, I expect you to have it all set up." She kissed his forehead and left him to it.

Charles inserted the disc and followed the prompts on the screen. He took care to build her Mii, smiling as he typed in the E-L-S-I-E for her name. He'd known it wouldn't work as M-R-S-.-C-A-R-S-O-N, but he'd tried that first anyhow, just in case.

"No room for the space," he grumbled.

Elsie watched him silently from the end of the hallway, thinking that if being married to Charlie was going to be as fun as the first two days at home had been, they were going to be very, very happy, indeed.

_**The End**_


End file.
